Salvator Eius Alatum
by DarkBloodWolf13
Summary: Harry receives an unknown inheritance on his 17th birthday, turning his world on its head. (Although by this point, he thinks it may have a few too many heads already.) Gaining a Soul Glyph is just the icing on the proverbial cake. AU, EWE, MM relationships and later mpreg.
1. Chapter 1

**Salvator Eius Alatum**

 _The Transformation_

Emerald eyes snapped open as the first chime of the clock striking midnight echoed in the darkness. Fire burned through his veins and set his limbs alight. Skin melted and bubbled, morphing and splitting. Bones cracked and snapped, reshaping and strengthening. Flesh ripped and tore, giving way to the immense pressures of an unknown magic. Screams pierced the night and hung in the air long after blackness once again swallowed the consciousness of the young man hidden away in the smallest room of the now silent house.

The first thing Harry noticed when he woke that morning was that everything was crystal clear. Clearer than his too old, scratched up glassed could ever make it. The second thing was the great, shining, black wings that protruded from his back and towered over him, dominating the room. It was odd he hadn't noticed them first, but after needing glasses to see anything more than a fuzzy coloured shape his entire life, he could now see the dust on the lampshade and the scratches on the wall, something he had always longed for. The breeze on his wings and the exposed skin of his torso made him wonder if anything else had changed last night. He let out a shocked gasp when he saw himself in the mirror. His hair had grown impossibly darker, matching the deep, almost void like black of his wings. It now shone and fell in a shimmering curtain down to the small of his back. His eyes glowed brightly and his skin no longer held the deep purple-grey, bruised like circles around his eyes, or the sallow tint that came from exhaustion and malnutrition. He had grown several inches and now stood around 6'3''. His muscles were larger and more pronounced, his body more toned.

Emotions, previously absent in his state of shock, flooded his body and flitted through his mind. Fascination. Fear. Confusion. Anger. Sadness. Longing. Finally settling on determination. He watched, enraptured in how swirling patterns rose and pulsed against his skin, the colour changing with his mood. He didn't know what he was yet, nor why nobody had told him of his inheritance when surely someone knew, but he was going to find out.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco whimpered and writhed in bed as a fresh wave of agony swept through his body. He cried out and curled up on his side. Shuddering, he felt the feathery wings he always tried so hard to conceal, erupt from his shoulders.

"Darling, are you alright?"

He just barely heard the muted voice of his mother through the muffled buzzing in his head. Letting out a low groan, he tried to reach for his wand, but found that he was simply too weak. The door creaked open and a gasp sounded from somewhere behind him. Narcissa rushed to his side and knelt by the bed, quickly casting a silencing charm and resetting the locking charms she had broken down with her ring. This was not something Lucius should see.

"Is it them? Your mate?"

A weak nod.

"They are coming of age?"

Another nod. This time his eyes darted down to his ribs, and then back up to his mother. She gingerly moved the arm covering his right hand side, releasing him when he grimaced in pain. She carefully pealed Draco's now shredded shirt from his sweat soaked body and glanced down. It was a gold and silver mark, still rimmed with blood from its sudden appearance and shining in the dim light.

"Oh love, a Shimmering Soul Glyph! They aren't human either, are they? Do you know what he or she is yet?"

An almost non-existent shake of his head. She reached up and began sweeping his platinum blonde hair off his clammy forehead and out of his stormy, tormented eyes.

"No, but…idea…who."

His voice was very weak, almost breath-like, only just audible.

"You don't want to tell me yet, though."

It wasn't a question, and he was deeply grateful. Both for the privacy, and for not having to respond again. He didn't have the energy. Being as gentle as she could, Narcissa slid into the bed beside her son, encircling him in her arms and murmuring soothing whispers into his hair. Draco nestled into the warm comfort of his mother's arms. A comfort so frequently denied him, even as a small child. Burrowing his head into the crook of her neck, he allowed his body to quiver and convulse, praying for sleep to overtake him.


End file.
